Le Morte de Qui Gon Jinn
by Imadra Blue
Summary: Qui-Gon Jinn survives the battle with Darth Maul and brings him back to the Jedi Council for interrogation. When Darth Sidious's identity is revealed, the Jedi Council rush to face their ancient foe, unaware of how outmatched they are... Gen.


**Warnings:** AU, Violence, Character Death(s)  
**Disclaimer:** Star Wars and all its characters are property of Lucasfilm Ltd. No copyright infringement is intended.  
**Notes:** Written for SW Mythology. It was originally meant to be the first part of a longer fic, but it now stands alone. The title is a stylistic reference to "_Le Morte d'Arthur_" by Sir Thomas Malory.  
**Beta Reader(s):** The very helpful and wise team of Neotoma and Dilly. All mistakes that remain are mine alone.

...

Darth Maul had returned to Coruscant quietly. That is to say that he did not speak while manacled to a wall in the bowels of the Republic cruiser. Though Anakin Skywalker had not been present for the spectacular lightsaber duel between Darth Maul, Qui-Gon Jinn, and Obi-Wan Kenobi, he suspected that it had been a hard one. Qui-Gon still look winded and had admitted he'd nearly been run through on three separate occasions. Anakin had shuddered at the tale, grateful Qui-Gon had escaped the battle unharmed.

Anakin followed behind Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan as they led the shackled Maul into the Jedi Temple. A strong wind swept across the Temple steps, sending the adults' robes fluttering about their legs. The day seemed a little darker for no discernable reason, and Anakin wondered if it was his imagination. Obi-Wan's hand tightened around Maul's bicep; maybe he sensed it, too. Qui-Gon, however, kept walking, dragging Maul a little up the steps, unperturbed by the weather.

The Jedi Council awaited them at the Temple entrance. Mace Windu had his hands on his hips and a scowl on his dark face as he stared down at Maul. Though he was not as big as Qui-Gon, there was something about Master Windu that seemed to fill up the Temple and make it seem as if it framed him. The Jedi Temple seemed formed of harsh angles and rigid curves, too big for anyone to understand, much like Windu himself. Anakin had heard Master Yoda was actually the most powerful Jedi, but he found that hard to believe.

The Council surrounded Maul so that Anakin couldn't see him anymore. Anakin could still _feel_ Maul. He would never forget the trickle of cold crawling up his spine every time he got too close to Maul. Anakin paused at the middle of the step, chewing his lip, unsure of what to do.

"Stay close to Obi-Wan, Anakin," said Qui-Gon. He was tall enough that Anakin could see the flash of his blue eyes over the other Jedi's head. "He'll take care of you."

Qui-Gon disappeared into the Temple with the other Masters, taking Maul with him. Obi-Wan was left behind. He stood on the top of the steps, his thin Padawan's braid whipping in the wind. There was something in his face, something that made Anakin's stomach twist with guilt for no reason, as Obi-Wan's stormy gaze rested on Anakin. He leaned forward, as graceful as a dancer, extending a hand out.

"Come along, Anakin," Obi-Wan said sharply. "Let's get cleaned up while the Council interrogates Maul."

Anakin nearly cried, knowing he was to be left in Obi-Wan's company. Obi-Wan _hated_ him - he'd nearly said as much to Qui-Gon before they'd left for Naboo. Anakin could still hear Obi-Wan's voice, a pretty voice gone harsh with intent. _The boy is dangerous... they all sense it. Why can't you?_

_I'm not dangerous!_ Anakin wanted to cry out. _I'll be a good Jedi! Why won't you trust me?_

But Anakin said nothing. He climbed the steps, suddenly tired. He took Obi-Wan's hand and looked up at him. Obi-Wan's hand was not as warm as Qui-Gon's was, nor as soft as Padmé's - and certainly not as comforting as his mother's had been. It was slightly moist, with the same calluses as Qui-Gon's, but smaller and with a weaker grip. It took a moment, but after touching Obi-Wan, Anakin finally got a sense of him. A fleeting sense of hope and strength tainted by fear. Anakin didn't know what to make of the feelings - they were stronger than anyone else's he'd ever touched, and that surprised him, given that they came from a Jedi. Or an almost-Jedi, at any rate.

"Come along. I haven't all day to stay out here and babysit you."

Obi-Wan yanked on his arm a little too roughly. It hurt, but Anakin didn't cry out. He just quickened his step as they passed by the impossibly tall pillars into the huge entrance of the Temple. He only hoped Qui-Gon would hurry up and take him away.

The less time spent alone with Obi-Wan, the better.

...

It would never seem right to _bathe_ in water, a precious commodity worth its weight in baradium on Tatooine. Anakin had washed himself with a dampened cloth, as he always had, but when he walked out of the 'fresher, Obi-Wan bent down to hand him fresh clothes and wrinkled his nose. Obi-Wan's nose was far too sensitive. Anakin thought he smelled all right.

Obi-Wan snatched Anakin up and stripped him of the small towel he'd wrapped himself up in. Despite how Anakin squirmed and screamed, Obi-Wan managed to get him back into the pristine white 'fresher. He dumped Anakin in the tub and filled it with water. Anakin never saw anything more wasteful in his _life_.

Anakin shivered, even though the soapy water was warm. The water level came up to his shoulders, and he could just imagine the horrified look on his mother's face to see him sitting in water. He hunched over as Obi-Wan _poured_ the precious substance over his hair. He could have lived for _weeks_ off all that water, if Obi-Wan hadn't ruined it. Anakin just curled up on himself, trying to collect as much of the white foam around himself to cover up his nakedness, not that Obi-Wan seemed to care about anything but how he smelled.

"Well? Scrub yourself. I'm not going to be trapped in a room with a little boy who smells like the back end of a bantha."

Anakin glared up at Obi-Wan in answer, wishing he could set fire to his hair.

Obi-Wan handed him a washcloth. "If you don't scrub yourself, I'm going to do it for you. And I won't be gentle."

Anakin took the white washcloth, staring at it thoughtfully. He did not doubt Obi-Wan would scrub every inch of him. He also did not doubt it would hurt. Obi-Wan seemed cruel enough to be capable of these horrible things. Anakin decided he hated Obi-Wan. With luck, Obi-Wan would trip over his stupid robes and fall off the balcony outside. After another glance up at Obi-Wan's hard blue-gray eyes, Anakin began scrubbing himself.

To his surprise, Obi-Wan shampooed his hair, grumbling about how much it stank. He used nearly a whole bottle of the stuff; it stank of something sweet and felt gooey on Anakin's neck. It wasn't just that Obi-Wan was shampooing him that was surprising, but that his touch was gentle. The feel of his fingertips massaging Anakin's scalp sent pleasant tingles down Anakin's neck. Well, maybe he didn't _hate_ Obi-Wan. And he'd accept Obi-Wan merely tripping on his robes and falling on his face.

Obi-Wan spent more time making sure Anakin was clean than Anakin did cleaning the fans in Watto's shop. By the time Obi-Wan drained the water and made Anakin rinse all the soap and shampoo off, his skin had wrinkled so badly he looked like Jira. Worse, the water was _cold_. Obi-Wan ignored his squeaks of protests and continued to hose him down. Just when Anakin thought he would freeze to death, Obi-Wan turned off the water and handed Anakin a towel.

Now that the water had finally been expelled from his nose, Anakin discovered a pungent, sweet scent was clinging to his skin and hair. "I smell like a girl!" he wailed.

"Don't be ridiculous. I used standard issue Temple soap and shampoo on you. Besides, any ridiculous notions you have about gender identity being related your olfactory senses is ridiculous, and furthermore, barbaric."

Anakin had no idea what Obi-Wan had just told him, so settled for repeating himself. "But I smell like a _girl_!"

"Miope is a perfectly neutral flower extract used by males and females alike. I use it."

"Maybe you don't care if you smell like a girl, but _I_ do."

"I'm hardly running around wearing huliyah extract. Of course I don't smell like a girl."

"But you do! And you have girl's eyes! And - and - and you wear stupid girl's clothes!"

Obi-Wan frowned at him, crossing his arms. "'_Girl's_ eyes'? And I'm wearing clothing that's standard to both male and female Padawan Learners."

"Ex_actly_."

Obi-Wan merely handed him a towel in response. "Dry off, then let's get you dressed." He seemed to be studying Anakin intently, something like a smile curving his lips slightly upwards.

Anakin started to dry off, keenly aware of Obi-Wan's gaze on him. "My skin looks like an old man's," he said, holding up his wrinkled fingers.

"It happens to Master Qui-Gon, too. It'll fade soon enough, once you dry off."

"It doesn't happen to you?"

Obi-Wan still stared at him, as if he were some sort of interesting holoshow. "No. My people are acclimated to moisture and high altitudes."

Once again, Anakin had no idea what Obi-Wan had said after the word "no". He decided asking would only prompt even more confusing answers, so he rubbed the towel over his hair. Desperate to escape Obi-Wan's scrutiny, he stomped out of the 'fresher into the painfully cool common room outside. He shivered and glanced between the slits of the durasteel blinds covering the windows, clutching the towel to himself.

The sun was setting behind the jagged Coruscant horizon, casting a strange golden glow across the endless city as the lights started to come on. Coruscant seemed to have as many buildings as Tatooine had sand. Anakin turned away, watching as Obi-Wan fetched his clothing - a simple beige tunic and trousers - off a small table. Anakin moved to stand behind the small couch and slipped the clothes on. They smelled just as clean as he did, but were thankfully lacking a flowery scent.

When Anakin handed his wet towel back, Obi-Wan looked amused. "What is your problem with girls?"

"They're silly. And play with dolls. And smell funny. And don't care about racers or starfighters or Jedi. And they keep trying to kiss me. _With their lips_."

"You'll appreciate than when you're older, I suspect." Obi-Wan paused. "What about Padmé? You seemed to like her."

"Yeah, so?" Anakin's stomach dropped at the subject of Padmé. She wasn't a normal girl. She was _special_. He wouldn't have minded if she kissed him at all. Not even if she left some of her facepaint on his cheek.

As if able to read Anakin's mind, Obi-Wan said, "I'll bet you'd have let Padmé kiss you, wouldn't you?"

"I would _not_!" cried Anakin in protest, shoving at Obi-Wan's stomach. Obi-Wan didn't budge at all; he was made of solid muscle.

"She didn't kiss you, though. Because you're just a teeny, tiny little boy with a sweet little face." Obi-Wan's eyes sparkled now. "I could have got her to kiss me, if I wanted. Maybe even do a lot more if we'd had the time and she wasn't so young."

With an incoherent shout of rage, Anakin tackled Obi-Wan, knocking him back onto the carpet. Obi-Wan seemed surprised enough at the full force of Anakin shoving his entire body against him that he didn't react as Anakin's small hands pressed him down.

"You take that back, you jerk! Padmé didn't like you! She liked me! She said so!"

Obi-Wan grabbed Anakin by his wrists and peeled him off. He stood, still holding Anakin by the wrists. Anakin screamed and struggled, but Obi-Wan's hands were like a durasteel vise. He didn't even flinch when Anakin kicked him in the knee.

There was a look in Obi-Wan's eyes that stopped Anakin cold. It wasn't anger or irritation; it was disdain. Anakin knew the look well. It had come across many people's face when they learned Anakin was a slave, crawling over their expressions like rotbeetles on a corpse. Some of them tried to hide it, some didn't. It made Anakin want to rip their faces off with his bare hands.

"If you want to be a Jedi, you'd better learn to start behaving like one. That means controlling your temper and letting go of your attachments."

"What do you know about being a Jedi? You're just an apprentice."

Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes, his grip a little more painful than before. "I won't be for much longer."

"You will! I'll bet you fail those Trials! The Jedi will kick you out! And Master Qui-Gon will laugh at you, because you were stupid and never listened to him!"

The golden light of the setting sun did nothing to soften the cold look on Obi-Wan's face. "You don't know anything about Master Qui-Gon."

The clearing of a throat drew both Anakin and Obi-Wan's attention upwards. Qui-Gon stood by the entrance to the room, wearing a patented look of disapproval that put even Anakin's mother's to shame. He had his arms crossed and his steely blue gaze was fixed on Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan instantly released his hold on Anakin and stepped back.

Anakin scrambled out from under him and over to Qui-Gon, grabbing the tall man's hand. "Master! Master! He was trying to hurt me!" Anakin didn't honestly think Obi-Wan had been going to hurt him, but Obi-Wan deserved getting in trouble for insulting Padmé's honor.

Qui-Gon didn't say anything. He only stared at Obi-Wan, a deep furrow between his brows. "How _old_ are you, Obi-Wan?"

When Anakin glanced back at Obi-Wan, he was surprised at how pale and small Obi-Wan suddenly looked. He sat on the couch, staring up at Qui-Gon, drawing his legs closer to himself. He swallowed before speaking. "Twenty-five, Master. You know that."

"Right now, all I know is that you're acting twenty years younger than you should be. I'm very disappointed in you. The Jedi Council has just agreed that you may face the Trials, but now I doubt the wisdom of their decision."

"I..." Obi-Wan's gaze fell on Anakin. He seemed to have developed a tic on the side of his face. "What about _him_?"

"Anakin will become my apprentice if you pass the Trials."

Anakin's elation at a chance to become Qui-Gon's apprentice was dampened by the expression on Obi-Wan's face, not to mention that his future hinged on Obi-Wan's performance. Obi-Wan might fail on purpose just to spite him.

"I'm sorry, Master." Obi-Wan hung his head.

Qui-Gon turned away, tugging on Anakin's hand. "Let's get you some dinner, Anakin, since I doubt Obi-Wan has even attended to that simple duty."

Anakin followed Qui-Gon silently, staring over his shoulder at Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan remained where he was, staring at the carpet at his feet. Anakin finally had a description for Obi-Wan's expression.

He looked like he wanted to cry, but wasn't letting himself.

...

A week later, Anakin found himself in the care of Obi-Wan again. Every time he looked at Obi-Wan he felt a peculiar twist in his gut, but he wasn't sure how to vocalize an apology, or for what, exactly, he should be apologizing for.

Obi-Wan didn't seem to care. He'd already passed four of his Trials - all with flying colors, too. Qui-Gon had hardly spoken to Obi-Wan, merely nodding to him when he returned from the Jedi Council, but he had hardly spoken to anyone the past week. He'd been spending almost all his time questioning Darth Maul, who'd yet to reveal who the other Sith was. To make matters worse, the Jedi had already had to neutralize three assassins attempting to kill Maul.

Anakin did not know why the Jedi were so convinced there was a second Sith Lord, but he assumed they had their reasons. What he did know was that Qui-Gon was not sleeping well and had dark circles under his eyes. Every night, Qui-Gon had returned to the small apartment he shared with Obi-Wan and Anakin looking more and more worn out. Anakin was worried about him, but when he'd asked Qui-Gon if he was all right, Qui-Gon had only nodded once before going back to nursing a drink with more stimulants in it than a poiyi tree.

Obi-Wan looked almost as tired as Qui-Gon. He had the same dark circles under his eyes, and there were visible bruises on his face from one of the Trials. He walked with a bit of a limp, but there was a sort of grim satisfaction to his expression that suggested he was proud of that limp. He'd said almost nothing to Anakin since that day Qui-Gon had found them fighting, even when he was supposed to be watching over him.

Anakin was shadowing Obi-Wan as they walked down to the Dining Hall for dinner, but Obi-Wan had not once glanced behind him - not even when he had stopped abruptly to let a rather large Jedi Master pass and Anakin had accidentally stepped on his heels.

The silence was maddening. Anakin couldn't take it anymore. He hitched up his new trousers - Qui-Gon had already given him the wardrobe of a Padawan Learner - and decided to make the first move.

"How many Trials do you have left, Obi-Wan... sir?" he asked. He wasn't sure how to address Obi-Wan yet.

Obi-Wan took a moment to respond, but as Anakin was behind him, he couldn't see his expression. "Just the one."

"Which one?"

"The Trial of Spirit."

"Oh. What happens in that one?"

"I don't know."

"Why not?"

"No one knows. It's individual to the Padawan. The Council will tell me when I'm ready to take it."

"When will that be?"

"I don't..." Obi-Wan trailed off and spun around to face Anakin in the middle of the hall. Anakin drew up short, taking a few steps backwards. He kept his gaze on Obi-Wan's face, waiting for signs of anger. Instead, there was only hurt there. It took Anakin another moment to realize the hurt wasn't on Obi-Wan's face at all, which remained smooth and impassive as ever, but underneath, visible only through the Force. "You're quite eager to become Qui-Gon's apprentice, aren't you?"

Anakin ignored Obi-Wan's question, instead trying to go the heart of the problem. "I'm not trying to take your place, Obi-Wan sir. Honest, I'm not. I do want to be a Jedi, but I don't mean to hurt your feelings."

"Hurt my -" Obi-Wan paused, searching Anakin's face. "You haven't hurt my feelings."

"Well, then why do you feel hurt?"

Obi-Wan turned away, annoyance flashing across his face. It seemed more expressive than most Jedi's, which still wasn't very. "This is unbelievable. Let's just go eat dinner."

Before Obi-Wan could turn around again, the sound of a scream ripping through the Force, primal and full of pain, froze both him and Anakin in place. The intensity made Anakin stagger; his head started to pound. It felt like someone had stabbed his head with a knife made of ice.

"That was..." Anakin began, then stopped to catch his breath.

"Maul," Obi-Wan finished.

They both ran, though Obi-Wan's longer legs quickly put him ahead of Anakin. Anakin quickly realized he had no idea where he was going and followed Obi-Wan as he dashed through the wide hallways of the Temple, past disoriented-looking Jedi still reeling from the Force-scream. They ran down several flights of stairs, the only sound they heard that of their own breathing. Anakin nearly tripped, but used the banister to support him.

When they burst into the sublevel's cold, blue hallway, there was shouting, and the familiar thrum of lightsabers. Smoke rolled out of an open door. Through it, Anakin could just make out the glow of blue and green rods of light clashing against each other. Anakin felt pain through the Force like he had when Maul had faced Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan in Theed. He instinctively drew back, clutching onto the thin metal bars holding up the banister.

Obi-Wan, however, had no such compunction. He drew his lightsaber, the sharp smell of ozone filling Anakin's nostrils, the thrum filling his ears. He rushed forward into the mayhem, crying out Qui-Gon's name. Other screams rang out, some of pain, most of them warnings to the other Jedi. Anakin curled up against the railing, holding one hand to his right ear, trying to block it out.

"I'm getting Master Yoda out of here!" roared Mace Windu.

Another Jedi - it sounded like the one with the ridged, cone-shaped head cried out. "He's too strong! He's escaping!"

"We have to get to the Chancellor before it's too late!" A female voice, one Anakin didn't recognize.

"Find Maul! I'm going to the Senate now! We must destroy Palpatine before it's too late!"

The last cry came from Qui-Gon, who burst out of the smoke, green lightsaber burning his hand. His dark brown robes swirled around him, and his blue eyes flashed with a sort of fire that made Anakin even more afraid than the knowledge that Maul was on the loose. Qui-Gon stormed towards the stairs, so focused he didn't even notice Anakin there. Mace Windu and Adi Gallia ran behind him. In Windu's arms was Master Yoda, cradled like a small, sick child.

Anakin thought Yoda dead at first, until he reached through the Force and felt Yoda's presence. It was diminished, but he still _lived_, his life energy barely pulsing in the Force. Anakin's eyes stung. If Yoda was the most powerful of all the Jedi, what hope did the others have?

"Sound the alarm!" cried Windu as the Jedi Masters rushed past Anakin's small body, their boots thudding on the steps. "I need Masters with us to go to Palpatine's executive office! Send the rest of the Council downstairs to take care of Maul!"

Anakin realized Windu was screaming into a comlink. As calm and serene as the Jedi normally were, they seemed half-mad now. There was still fighting and shouting inside the smoke, and Anakin could sense Maul's presence like a bad holocomm transmission, static, insistent, and frightening if listened to long enough.

It dawned on Anakin what Qui-Gon had meant. Palpatine - the new Chancellor - was the second Sith Lord. Anakin gulped. He knew power corrupted - being a slave most of his life had taught him that, if nothing else. Even the kindest of masters could be cruel to their slaves.

Though fear spread through his body like a disease, Anakin crept up the stairs after Qui-Gon, determined to help any way he could. He kept out of sight, not that it mattered. The Masters were far too distracted to pay one small child any attention.

...

Even though Anakin had seen the battle unfold before his eyes, he couldn't believe it.

Eight Masters had arrived to destroy Palpatine: Qui-Gon Jinn, Mace Windu, Adi Gallia, Cin Drallig, Even Piell, Yaddle, Yarael Poof, and Oppo Rancisis. Eight Jedi Masters of estimable power, now wheedled down to two.

Master Gallia had fallen with seconds of facing Palpatine, who'd snapped out a red lightsaber faster than a striking krayt dragon when the Jedi Masters had burst into his office. His kindly face had twisted with malicious glee, sending fear sparking through Anakin's entire body. The primal yell he'd gave was not unlike the one Maul had given through the Force. Palpatine had no sooner leapt at her, than his burning blood-colored blade had run her through, cutting past her defense as if she'd never even put one up.

Master Rancisis had fallen moments later, blocking only one undercut of Palpatine's blade before his strange bearded head had been separated from his neck by the second stroke. The smaller Jedi - Master Yaddle and Master Piell - had fallen so fast that Anakin hadn't even noticed they were dead until their bodies had hit the ground. Master Poof had died stopping a cut meant for Master Drallig with his own body. His effort proved in vain when Palpatine electrocuted Drallig to death only minutes later with arcs of lightning bursting from his fingertips.

Anakin huddled near Master Gallia's body, hidden by the shadows of the hallway, the tentacles of her torn headdress stretched out near his feet. Fear like he'd never felt before tore through him - fear not just for himself and Qui-Gon, but fear the Jedi might lose the battle to Palpatine. And if they lost, the galaxy lost.

Qui-Gon and Windu moved as practically one unit, fierce and strong, yet elegant. Their blade strokes were quick and efficient, but Palpatine was faster. Anakin knew very little about lightsaber duels, but he knew Windu and Qui-Gon were on the defensive and hard pressed.

The sun was setting outside the huge window in Palpatine's wrecked office, brilliant oranges and pinks stretching across the sky. The lights of Coruscant twinkled to life below; the endless city was safely unaware of the epic battle between Jedi and Sith happening at the top of the Executive Office building.

The glass window shattered from a crackle of blue lightning that had been directed at Qui-Gon. He held back as much of the energy as he could with his lightsaber, sweat pouring down his face, his hair in wild disarray. The pieces of broken glasses littered the red carpet at his feet, and he teetered at the edge of the window, threatening to fall to his doom thousands of stories below. Anakin cried out, but no one heard him, not over the thunder of lightsabers clashing.

Windu spun at Palpatine, forcing him to turn from Qui-Gon. Qui-Gon flailed for a moment then regained his footing, striking at Palpatine again, his movements a sort of deadly dance. Palpatine whirled again and leapt off the wall. He bounced between his opponents, tossing his expensive furniture at both Windu and Qui-Gon at the same time. He giggled like a child at play.

Anakin saw the blow before it happened, but he was too slow to stop it. He rushed out of the shadows, screaming Qui-Gon's name, though Qui-Gon's back was to him as he dueled with Palpatine. He wasn't even halfway there when a beam of red fire burst through the small of Qui-Gon's back. Anakin felt pain explode all through his chest as if he was the one who'd been struck the fatal blow.

Qui-Gon seemed to fall forever. The thud of Qui-Gon's body on the carpet, bouncing once before falling still, sounded like the galaxy coming to end. All of Anakin's hopes and dreams had rested on Qui-Gon, just as Qui-Gon's hopes and dreams had rested on him. In the short space of time Anakin had known Qui-Gon, he'd come to love him, hoping Qui-Gon could become the father he'd never had.

Rage filled Anakin's being, pulsing to the beat of Palpatine's laughter. He knelt by Qui-Gon's body, not even paying attention to Windu and Palpatine as they continued to duel. He stared at the smoking black hole in Qui-Gon's upper belly. Anakin could not move, he could not think, he could not even weep for Qui-Gon.

Palpatine spoke to him, grinning at Anakin from where he still fought Mace Windu. "Now you know who holds the _true_ power, young Skywalker. _I_ will train you in the ways of the Force now." Anakin ignored him - he'd die before he let anyone who killed Qui-Gon train him.

Anakin saw Qui-Gon's eyes flutter open. He coughed a little, reaching for his lightsaber, which lay fallen to his side. Anakin reached over him and plucked it off the carpet before Qui-Gon's fingers closed over it. Qui-Gon's eyes widened, and he shook his head, trying to croak something out at Anakin. Anakin did not hear him. All he heard was Qui-Gon's weakening heartbeat.

When Anakin pushed the button of Qui-Gon's lightsaber, green light slid out, the hum of its power mixing with the sound of Qui-Gon's heartbeat. Its glow matched the fury lit within Anakin. It vibrated slightly in his hand, seemingly urging him to his feet. Nothing had ever felt more right.

Palpatine had his back to Anakin now. He was still locked in mortal combat with Windu, casting bright arcs of lightning at Windu with one hand, swinging ever closer with his red lightsaber in the other. Windu blocked as much of the lightning as he could with his purple blade, but he was weakening. He fell to his knees under the onslaught, just as Palpatine's blade slid through his right arm. Lightsaber and arm dropped to the side, and Windu screamed in agony.

It was at that dark moment, when Palpatine cackled with malicious glee, his fingertips glowing with the power of the dark side as he prepared to blast Windu out of the window, that Anakin struck his blow. Qui-Gon's blade slid easily through Palpatine's back and burst out of his chest in an explosion of green light, the reverse of the thrust Palpatine had just used to murder Qui-Gon with.

Anakin had never felt more cold in his life.

The lightning in Palpatine's hands faded, and when Anakin turned the lightsaber off, Palpatine fell to the ground, twitching slightly before finally lying still. On his aged face was a look of shock.

It was not the injured Mace Windu, wearing a look of shock to match Palpatine's, that Anakin attended to next. Anakin left Windu on his knees and dropped back down beside Qui-Gon. His heartbeat had almost faded away.

"Knew... knew you were... the Chosen One." Even though he lay dying, Qui-Gon's tone was filled with pride and satisfaction.

"Oh, Master," whispered Anakin, resting his head on Qui-Gon's chest. Hot tears flowed down his cheeks now, as if Palpatine's death had broken a dam behind his eyes. "Please don't leave me."

Qui-Gon rested a heavy hand on Anakin's head, burying his fingers in Anakin's hair. "Will... always be... with you..."

Anakin only sobbed harder, clutching at Qui-Gon's tunic. The smell of ozone and cooked meat hung in the air of Palpatine's ruined office.

"Tell Obi-Wan..."

Anakin lifted his head to look into Qui-Gon's face, feeling Qui-Gon's fingertips slide over his own. Qui-Gon's smile was weak, but he continued to speak. "Tell Obi-Wan that… tell him he is... son..." Qui-Gon coughed, his eyes going wide. "...my son."

Qui-Gon's last word was spoken so softly Anakin could only barely hear it. The sound of his heartbeat in Anakin's ears ended. Color drained instantly from his face, and his hand dropped lifelessly to his side. Anakin had never seen anyone die before. The bright pulse of the Force went dark, and he thought he heard a scream.

Anakin cradled Qui-Gon's head in his lap and rocked him. He did not stop crying for a long time, not even when Master Windu crawled over to him and pried him off Qui-Gon's body. After the rest of the Jedi arrived, Master Windu held Anakin tightly with his good arm as he limped away. Anakin buried his streaming face against the dark neck, shaking with a sorrow he sensed Windu shared.

Anakin didn't feel cold anymore - he felt empty.

...

Anakin felt numb for days.

They'd told him what had happened, and he supposed it mattered, but he couldn't see how. He kept seeing Qui-Gon's face going slack, feeling his long body grow cold. Anakin wanted to talk to his mother, but he didn't even know how to ask anyone. He knew it wouldn't matter even if he did; he didn't know how to contact her. He just sat around quietly as the Jedi bustled around, trying to pick up the broken pieces of the Republic.

Master Windu had a cybernetic prosthesis attached to the stump of his arm. He seemed every bit as empty as Anakin, his dark face surprisingly pale, and his eyes blank. Anakin would sit by him sometimes. They never spoke, but it was comforting to be next to someone who'd _seen_ what horrors Palpatine had been capable of, who knew how the Force had screamed when Qui-Gon had died.

Master Yoda lay in a deep coma in the infirmary. Maul had not responded to any interrogation technique, and in desperation, Yoda had used an ancient technique long-forgotten by most Jedi tear the information on the second Sith Lord from Maul's mind. In doing so, the dark side had nearly killed him. The explosion of power through Yoda had been enough to allow Darth Maul to escape his bonds. The scream had not been Maul's at all - it had been Yoda's. After that, Yoda had only been able to croak out Palpatine's name before slipping away into a dark side coma. The Jedi already spoke of him as if he were dead.

Darth Maul had been killed, hunted down through the sublevels of the Jedi Temple he was trying to escape through. It had been Obi-Wan who'd killed him, surviving a deadly massiff and nuna game that had cost the Jedi Order several more Jedi Masters. Obi-Wan's survival and victory had been determined to be his Trial of Spirit, and what remained of the Jedi Council had unanimously decided to confer the level of Jedi Knight upon him.

The victory had rung hollow when they'd brought back Qui-Gon to the Temple in a covered medical capsule. Obi-Wan had sunk to his knees as Qui-Gon's body floated past, his expression as haunted as Windu's.

It was at the funeral for all the fallen Jedi that Anakin approached Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan seemed far away as he sat alone on a polished marble bench, watching Qui-Gon's body burn on the funeral pyre. Obi-Wan's dark hood was up. When Anakin peered through its shadows to see Obi-Wan's bright eyes glitter with unshed tears, Anakin laid a small hand on his shoulder. Obi-Wan couldn't have looked more drained of life if someone had sucked out all his blood, but his pain was overwhelming. His sorrow pulsed with slow energy, right beneath his skin.

Anakin did not stagger back as he wanted to, instead leaning forward to whisper in Obi-Wan's ear, pushing back his hood. "He told me tell you that you were his son."

Obi-Wan didn't react at first. After a moment, he stirred, as if waking from a dream, and clutched Anakin's shoulders. Tears streaked down his handsome face now, glittering in the firelight. He stared at Anakin, searching his face for a long time before he simply took Anakin into his arms, holding him against his chest.

When Obi-Wan requested to train Anakin as his apprentice the next morning, Anakin found hope for the future once again.

_End._


End file.
